The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

Federal Deep Capital Core Control Room.

On multiple split screens, the city's heat map flashed, with countless light dots representing monitoring nodes densely packed together.

Sterling sat in the mobile command vehicle, looking at the object analysis sent by the analysts on the screen.

At this moment, he was unusually refined, lightly tapping the edge of the metal control panel with his fingers, producing an inexplicable melody.

His deep eyes were fixed on Lin Zheng's position, as if he could see through the screen and directly into the tired figure in the dark pipe.

"Report, Department of Homeland Security's Ninth Task Force has arrived at the deployment area outside Emerald Dream City and is awaiting further instructions regarding the Ouroboros Protocol," a young man reported.

"Ground deployment has completed the blockade, air power is on standby, all ground communication nodes have been cut off according to the plan, and the city's broadcasting system is updating its information," another person added.

Sterling took a small sip of his coffee, his eyes remaining completely unmoved.

He pondered, filtering out all redundant information.

Lin Zheng's abilities exceeded his original expectations.

This is not just a fugitive, but also an unprecedented "variable".

"Effective immediately, all mobile phones, radios, satellite communications, etc. in Emerald Dream City will be silenced. We hereby announce to the public that in order to protect citizens from terrorist attacks launched by wanted criminals through communication devices, communications must be shut down. This is expected to last for three hours."

Sterling's voice wasn't loud, but every word carried unquestionable authority, traveling through the encrypted lines to the entire control room and to the countless nodes hidden in the darkness, awaiting orders.

"All troops can only act through my encrypted commands, allowing all police officers to set up checks at key traffic points."

Any independent action will be considered an obstruction to the Ouroboros Agreement and will be dealt with on the spot without exception.

The commanders' screens suddenly went from a noisy stream of data to complete silence.

Sterling's fingers stopped tapping.

He stood up and walked toward a device covered with black velvet, a cold glint in his eyes.

This is not simply a physical pursuit; it also involves a deeper and more deadly psychological game.

The company's "snake-like silence" protocol is tightening silently, cutting off all available public communication lines.

From this moment on, Lin Zheng was no longer alone.

He was completely blind.

He was completely cut off from all contact with the outside world. He was like a ship lost in the dark, without the guidance of a lighthouse, not knowing where he was or where he was going.

Inside a heavily guarded secret research facility on the outskirts of Federal Deep City.

Professor Finch was escorted by two members of the "Ghost Dogs" team, dressed in black uniforms, through several security gates to a brand-new laboratory.

This isn't one of those university labs weathered by history; here, it's filled with brand-new, shimmering equipment, the air thick with the smell of metal and electricity.

His steps were unhurried.

In a huge glass petri dish, some kind of blurry tissue pulsating in the culture medium emits a faint blue light.

Finch sat down calmly in a high-backed chair.

If you want to gain a higher status and position, you must do your best to demonstrate your value, and Finch clearly succeeded.

However, what he told Lin Zheng about "overthrowing the social class structure" and "becoming the god of the new world" was not a lie. If Lin Zheng cooperated with him, he would indeed have a chance to achieve it.

But the current situation is not bad; he can still continue his experiments, and Lin Zheng will proceed as he said—

To become a guinea pig.

Sterling stepped into the laboratory, his gaze sweeping over the gleaming instruments before finally settling on Finch's face.

"The conditions in this laboratory are excellent, but the most crucial experimental subject is missing from the petri dishes, Mr. Sterling. I think you'll capture it for me, won't you?"

"Professor Finch, welcome to your new laboratory."

Sterling didn't display his usual haughty arrogance; instead, he showed a more cautious and inquisitive demeanor.

"This place brings together the Federation's most advanced technology, and all resources will be available to you."

Finch adjusted his glasses, a playful smile playing on his lips.

"The efficiency is good."

"It seems my assessment of your worth has greatly increased. It's a pleasure working with you, Mr. Sterling."

He gently turned the ring on his finger.

"Your 'Lullaby,' Professor."

Sterling walked to a table covered with various intricate charts and lightly touched one of the complex brain waveforms with his fingertips.

"It's so important to us."

"And Lin Zheng, according to you, seems to be able to amplify your 'Lullaby'."

Upon hearing this, Finch's eyes flashed with fervor.

He picked up a palm-sized portable mental broadcasting device from the table.

It looks like a black microphone, except it has a few more knobs.

"certainly.""

He walked over to Sterling while adjusting the equipment.

"Mr. Sterling, this thing can not only sing, it can also 'see' Lin Zheng."

Finch spoke softly and slowly.

Click—

Professor Finch pressed the switch, and Sterling moved slightly but did not back down.

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Sterling. The lullaby is with me; it's just a means of communication."

Professor Finch made an exaggerated gesture and grinned a wicked smile.

"Lin Zheng's mental fluctuations are so...unique."

"When I tested him, I observed that he seemed to be able to perceive the mental fluctuations of others and communicate with them mentally, during which he would experience a special kind of mental resonance."

"This is an extremely rare 'talent,' one I've never seen before."

Professor Finch's gaze drifted into the distance, landing on Lin Zheng, who had been frightened during the test.

Every time he thinks, perceives, or even simply exists... he can be 'heard'.

Professor Finch was already pleased with the damage and effects of his lullaby, and Lin Zheng was, in his words, a highly talented experimental subject who could amplify the scope and intensity of the lullaby's effects; further research might even reveal its hidden uses.

But Sterling was also considering the credibility of Finch's words, and he also had to think about whether to hand Lin Zheng over to Finch.

Combining Finch's research with this experimental subject's talent would represent a significant advancement in the "American Dream" company's ability to macroscopically regulate social emotions.

But Finch himself is a huge risk; his abilities and pronouncements reveal considerable ambition.

Finch handed the broadcasting equipment to Sterling.

"I adjusted the mental broadcaster a little, and the melody it emits contains a mental fluctuation."

"This mental fluctuation will collide and resonate with Lin, and bounce back, just like a sonar. The detection device on the mental broadcaster will show the direction of Lin's location."

"We'll find him, won't we?"

Sterling took the broadcasting equipment, his fingertips feeling the cold metal casing, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

Once Lin Zheng is captured, he can do whatever he wants with him.

If Finch is willing to cooperate, he can hand Lin Zheng over to him for temporary research. If he is not willing to compromise, he can still ask for talent to start the research again. At worst, it will just take a few more years of effort.

Lin Zheng's mental fluctuations have become an indelible mark on him in this city.

Lin Zheng's whereabouts are no longer a troubling unknown; he is now a clearly targeted prey.